Mercy Is Not An Option
by Prinzessin Mia
Summary: Courier Six has survived death, and now he only has one thing on his mind: revenge. He sets out and meets a girl who is new to the Mojave. She needs to get to New Vegas, so Six agrees to let her tag along. As they run into factions and fight to survive, they grow closer with each new obstacle. Every major player in the Mojave wants them on their side, but which will they choose?
1. Introduction

**Mercy Is Not An Option**

* * *

_Welcome to Goodsprings_, the old sign reads. It makes a creaking noise, one that echos off of the rundown buildings. It is an eerie sound, since there is not a soul in sight. The moon ishigh and bright, casting shadows over the dry landscape. Further out in the distance, an abandon watertower stands proudly. An old neon sign flickers on at that moment. _Open_, it declares. One by one, more signs turn on.

An old door creaks open, disturbing the peaceful silence. A lone figure steps out, and music fills the air. Jazzy music plays, singing about blue moons and lonely nights. The door bangs shut, and the music is cut off. Worn boots smack against the dusty planks of wood before they hit the sandy earth. Long legs take the figure away from the small town, up the hill to the watertower. Everything is silent as the figure reaches its destination: a cemetery.

Small wooden crosses sit in random spots, as do the scarce wildflowers that grow. Trash litters the ground, but the figure pays no mind to any of it. The shadow leans against one of the watertower legs, staring out over the destroyed barren landscape. Far out in the distance, light can be seen. The source is unknown, but not to the figure. It sighs and pulls out a cigarette and lighter. There is no one around, or so it seems. Nothing makes a noise, except for the breathing of the figure. Not a minute later, another shadowy figure appears, a dangerous looking piece of wood in its hand. The watertower blocks the moon, drowning the cemetery in dark light.

The first figure does not move, and the second figure continues its approach. No noise is made from the latter being, that is until they kick a stray beer bottle. A moment later, the first figure twists around, scenery forgotten. Before the second figure can move, the first is holding something rather large and cold. There is a brief silence as both parties stare at each other. Making the first move, the second figure charges at the first, its weapon high in the air. Suddenly a loud bang fills the air, chasing away the calm setting. The second figure crumbles to the ground, crying out in agony. Another shot rings out, and the cries stop. The first figure stands over the fallen enemy before it bends down to search the pockets of the dead person. As the mysterious figure continues its task, it does not notice the other five shadows that form behind it.

"Game over, buddy." A deep accented voice says, and the first figure straightens quickly.

The weapon is back in its hand, but the other man simply laughs. Retreating suddenly, the figure keeps its eyes on the enemies, not noticing the deep hole in the earth.

Stumbling to gain balance, the shadow falls backwards into the hole. It gets back on its feet swiftly. The man speaks again, his voice a sharp bark. Before the first figure can react, a hard object hits the back of its head, and the figure falls back down into the hole, unconscious.

* * *

**Author's Note: Calm down, it's just an introduction chapter. I'm actually very excited to write this story, and I hope you guys will like it as it progresses. Believe me, it gets way better in the upcoming chapters. Hope you're all having a fun school year so far, I sure am! (: Oh and by the by, I recently found an app that lets me write whatever I want, then I can post it to sites like Facebook, Twitter, Fanfiction, etc. I'm pretty much on it 24/7 writing new stuff :) I can upload chapters from my phone, but there is a ton of grammer mistakes and it won't seperate in to different paragraphs. Better than nothing, right?**

**Song of the Chapter: Blue Moon by Frank Sinatra **


	2. Chapter 1

Looking around at the small town, I feel my muscles relax. Certainly not a camp for raiders, thank goodness. My legs are feeling a bit numb, and in the back of my mind I wonder when was the last time I sat and took a rest. My hand rests on my gold 10mm pistol, a habit of sorts. Can never be too sure, especially around unknown people, they could be cannibals. I shudder at the thought. Dust hits my bare legs, making me instinctively reach down to brush it off. Back home there was no dust. Hell, there was barely any sun! Glancing once more at my outfit with disapproval, I attempt to brush off the layer of grime on my skin to the best of my abilities. Around a month ago, I realized my comfy black combat armor would not be the best thing to wear in this strange place. My precious armor was sold to the first trader I found. Unfortunately, the only thing they had in apparel was a short mini skirt that barely reached the bottom of my thighs and a button-down shirt that ended at my stomach. If I was home, I would never have thought of buying it. But I definitely was not home.

Sighing, I straighten and head to a building that might be a bar. It says "saloon" on the outside, so hopefully it is true to its name. Bar owners usually know everything about anything they can, so I can probably get some help here. My boots hit the wood planks and I inwardly rejoice at the gift of shade, even though the heat still remains. An old man sits outside the saloon, observing me with careful eyes. Pale skin is probably considered weird out here. I nod once and offer a small smile to the man, one he does not return. Okay then, not so friendly to outsiders, mentally noted.

I open the door and step inside. The air isn't much better, but it's less hot, thankfully. An antique jukebox plays music I don't recognize, and there are many chairs and booths. The place looks pretty decent, and doesn't smell too bad either. A few men sit at the bar counter drinking their preferred poison, discussing something rather loudly. Maybe they're in a gang? My eyes rest briefly on the gang members before I notice another man. His hair is brushed back and sprayed with pomade, and I can't help feeling a little homesick. The man's jacket is what caught my eye; no doubt it was the only one of its kind. A bright white and black checkered pattern stand out, even from across the room. I sigh deeply, shaking off the paranoia that has set in my stomach.

My feet don't make a sound as I cross the distance to the bar, but the man in the checkered suit is already watching me. Ignoring him, I clear my throat politely, waiting for the bartender to come over to my barstool. I trace the patterns in the wooden countertop to keep me from staring at the others in the bar. That would definitely attract unwanted attention, which is something I can't afford.

"'Ello there, sugah. Don't believe I've seen ya round here before."

I look up to see a woman with kind eyes and laugh lines. She seems nice. Then again, appearances can be deceiving.

"My name's Trudy, I run this here bar. Welcome to Goodsprings." She offers me a warm smile and I return it, not letting my guard down for a moment. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the man in the checkered suit watching me intently. His gang friends continue to converse, oblivious to my presence.

"Thank you, Ma'am. It sure is nice to see some friendly faces." The woman nods and picks up a stray glass to start drying. The homesickness settles back into my stomach. I ignore it.

"You look like you're starvin'! How does a nice Brahmin steak sound to you?"

My mouth waters at the thought of some food that isn't canned and 200 years old. "Sounds delicious," I reply, and Trudy leaves the room to go get the food. Which leaves me with the gang of weirdos. Instead of looking at them, I survey the rest of the room. A broken radio lies on the floor, wonder why nobody's fixed it yet? It takes my ears a moment to realize the room has gone silent. Dismissing it, I fiddle around with my Pip-Boy. Looking at the list of local radio stations, I keep in mind the 'Radio New Vegas' station. As much as I want to play music right now, it might upset some the others.

Scrolling by the radios category, I study my map. Marking my current location 'Goodsprings', I observe the surroundings. There is a road to the north, and one to the south. I got here from the west, so cross that direction out. Maybe Trudy can help me in the right direction. There's gotta be a weapons store in town; I'm getting pretty low on supplies and ammo. I'll check around after I finish lunch. I type my current "to-do" list into my Pip-boy and hit enter. The list is saves, and I scroll back to the screen that shows my health and condition. Even though he is quiet, I can still hear his shoes tap lightly against the floorboards. The stool next to mine scrapes against the wood before it comes to a stop. He even _smells _like pomade. Pomade and cigarettes. At first I decide to ignore him, maybe he'll leave me alone?

"Hey there, pussycat." I groan inwardly. He was one of _those _guys. I pick at my fingernails, continuing to ignore the creepy man. "You got a problem, doll?"

Sighing, I turn my head towards the man. To hell with it, he might even be nice.

"Yes. My problem is you invading my personal space." A chorus of _ooh_'s sound from across the bar and I realize I have an audience. The invader beside me chuckles along with them, but I can tell he doesn't mean it.

"So," he tries again. I roll my eyes theatrically, the gang stifles laughs. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a run-down bar like this?" Resisting the urge to groan at this man's grammar, I just shrug casually.

"Passing through."

"Where you headin'?"

"Somewhere."

"Alright babydoll, I see how it is. The name's Benny." He offers his hand. I shake it, just being polite, not that I actually care about him. He seems stuck-up, like he's better than everyone else. I really don't like those kinds of people.

Trudy walks in then, and I pull my hand away. Trudy gestures to the other room with all the tables, and I follow, grabbing my pack before I leave the bar. Benny calls to me, "nice meeting you, too." I don't say anything, just get up and leave the bar and enter the other room. As I settle in, Trudy sets the steak in front of me. I thank her, and to my surprise, she doesn't leave. Instead she sits on the chair opposite me.

"Be careful 'round those men. A group of Khans with a Vegas boy? That just ain't normal. Watch yourself honey." She gets up, and I put my fork and knife down.

"What's a 'Khan'?"

Trudy looks at me with a funny expression on her face, then realization settles, and she nods. "You gonna stay in town long?"

I nod. "A week at most."

"Come back tomorrow then, I'll tell ya anything ya wanna know."

"That's very generous of you." I say, and Trudy shakes her head.

"Guess it's just in my nature to be helpful." I smile and thank her. "Say," the woman begins. "You're gonna need a place to stay."

I nod again. "You can use the house out behind the saloon. No one lives there, and only I have a key. It serves as a motel of sorts."

"How much?"

"50 caps a night."

"Deal," I agree happily. Beats spending the night outdoors.

Trudy smiles and gestures at my untouched food. "Finish your dinner and come get the key from me after you're done."

She turns around and heads into the other room, leaving me with my thoughts and new information. So Benny is from Vegas, huh? Maybe I can ask him a few questions tomorrow. I eat my dinner in silence, already planning out tomorrow's activities.

* * *

**Author's Note: Wow, I love how many views the intro got! This is my first F:NV story, and I can't wait for it to get it in motion! Sooo sorry it took me so long to write this, I started the chapter on my computer and didn't want to rewrite it all over again on my phone. How'd you guys like this chapter? Leave a review, if at all possible. Reviews help me stay on track and keep me in line, plus, they make updates a lot faster (:**

**Song of the Chapter: Dead Bite by Hollywood Undead**


	3. Chapter 2

After dinner, I wander in to the bar. I'm somewhat happy to see that Benny and his gang are no longer present. Setting my dinner plate on the counter, I hop on to a bar stool. Trudy turns to me and smiles, looking at my empty plate.

"Was the steak good?" Trudy questions and I nod quickly. She laughs, turning around and opening a drawer. When she turns around, she is holding a small key.

"50 caps up front, no tabs. No hard feelings." I grab my bag and open the side pocket, pulling out the money. I drop the money in her hand and she pushes the key across the counter and I take it, thanking her kindly. The air is cold, surprising me, even after 3 months. There is no sound except for my shoes crunching in dirt. I slide the key in to the lock, wishing for a moment I was entering my home. The door closes soundly behind me and let my pack fall to the floor.

"Home sweet home," I grumble absently, taking in my room. Two doors sit on the wall opposite of me, and main room serves as a kitchen, dining room, and living room. I kick off my shoes as I explore the rest of the house. The first door is a bathroom, with running water, to my delight. The second room was the bedroom, with a wardrobe, desk, and bed. Flopping on to the soft mattress, I curl up in the sheets, happy to be off my feet. Just before I pass out, I hear a sharp persistent scratching noise. I follow it to the kitchen, where the noise grows louder. It's coming from the cabinet. In one swift motion, I throw open the cabinet doors, jumping back when a mass of fur falls to my feet. I sigh when I realize it's only a puppy. It stumbles to its feet at first then turns toward me, its tail wagging merrily. The puppy is standing over something, I nudge it with my foot. It moves out of the way, revealing a box of cram.

"Hey there, boy. Why are you in here?" He just stands there, brown eyes starting at me with curiosity. I kneel to stroke his soft brown fur. No collar, no tags. Chances are he has no home. I shrug, closing the cabinet and throwing away the left over meal. He follows, tail wagging the whole way. Laying back down on the bed, I smile when he jumps up, settling down next to my side. Hopefully Trudy will know who he belongs to. Closing my eyes, I dream of odd-color eyes and warm nights by campfire light.

* * *

It is only 7 am when I wake up. Rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand, I throw my legs over the side of the bed. This is the second day I have been in Goodsprings, I need to get as much done as possible. A low whine sounds from behind me.

"But first, breakfast." I say with a sigh, I can't waste any time. In the kitchen I fix myself a bowl of sugar bombs and feed the puppy an instamash. I head in to the main room and notice my pack laying next to the door where I put it yesterday. I eat my breakfast at the table quietly, watching the puppy chow his breakfast down. When I finish, I take the dishes out of the room and head to my pack. Dumping out its contents on to the table, I make a quick list of things I will need.

More 10mm ammo, more .308 ammo, microfusion cells are a must, a spare set of clothes wouldn't hurt either, and maybe have someone repair my precious Gauss Rifle. I pull out my bag of caps. It only takes me a moment to count them all, and that means I'll need to find work soon. My total comes to 274. I look at the table, staring at my belongings. A hair brush, a toothbrush, a half-empty bottle of toothpaste, 5 purified water bottles, a dozen 10mm clips, sunglasses, binoculars, a small velvety black book, a set of earbuds, soap, a few readings books, a lighter, a bedroll, a couple handfuls of bobbypins, a screwdriver, and about 20 stimpaks.

Those supplies won't last me another month. adjusting everything the way it was before, I put on my shoes and lock the door behind me. I glance down at the chocolate color puppy. "Trudy should know if you belong to anyone here. Behave, okay?" The dog does not respond, he continues to pant and wag his tail. I enter the saloon, holding the door open briefly for my furry friend.

Trudy is behind the counter, muttering to herself, studying the contents of the broken radio I saw yesterday. "'Mornin', Trudy." She looks up and smiles at me.

"Is the house alright?"

"It's perfect. Maybe a little _too _perfect," I say. She looks at me questioningly, and to answer her silent question, I pick up the puppy. Trudy pets him briefly, and then turns her attention back to the radio as she continues to talk to me.

"That there is one of Cheyenne's pups. Cheyenne is Sunny Smiles' dog. I don't think Sunny'll mind if you keep that one, she's got 5 others to take care of."

"Oh, okay. Do you know where I can find her? I want to ask for her permission before I take him." Trudy nods, not entirely paying attention. I speak louder this time. "Need any help with your radio?"

The woman nods, and I move behind the counter, letting the puppy roam around on the empty countertop. "One of them Khan boys knocked it over last night."

"Speaking of Khans..." I trail off, looking at the inside of the radio. I can fix this with a blindfold over my eyes! Setting to work, I turn back to Trudy. "What is it, exactly?"

"The Khans are a faction. Some of the toughest people in the Mojave, they are, only because of the strict initiation they have. Their main camp is in Red Rock Canyon, just Northeast of here. They tend to keep to themselves and continue selling their specially made drugs."

"Who do they sell them to?"

"Not sure. Fiends, bar owners, anyone willing to pay, I guess." I nod to myself. Maybe I can talk to their leader in the future. An idea pops in to my head, and I pull my hands out of the radio, which are now dirty and greasy.

"Can you by any chance enter their camp's location in to my Pip-boy?"

Trudy says yes and when she is done, I turn back to the radio. Putting the back cover on, I turn the radio to face it. Turning the dial and hitting the power button, I smirk as the machine turns on, not like I thought it wouldn't. Slow jazz music fills the room, making it feel cozy and warm.

"Here's a hundred caps. Thanks hun."

Even though I am low in caps, I still refuse. Stupid good-nature heart. "Take it, sweetie. Chet would have charged me twice as much, plus you look like you need the money."

I sigh and take my payment. "Now how about spending that money here in the saloon, hmm?" I chuckle along with Trudy, complying.

"Nuka-cola, please." I set the caps on the table and take a gulp of the satisfying soda. "But if Khans keep to themselves, why were they with Benny?" Trudy raises an eyebrow and I explain. "The man in the checkered suit."

"Oh, that city boy," she comments with disgust. "He had his nose so high in the air you couldn't see it past all the clouds." I agree, smiling a little. "I don't have the slightest clue, darlin'."

"He's a long way from Vegas," I note. Trudy begins to dry glasses, making me think of my current problem. "Do you have any work I can do around here? I need to check out the supplies store, but I'm a little low on funds."

Trudy shakes her head. "Sorry sweetie, the only work I had was fixing that there radio, and you just did that." She stops for a moment, thinking briefly. "Sunny Smiles should have some work for ya. She clears our water sources of any geckos that get too close. Maybe she'll let you tag along."

"Great!" I say, jumping up from my stool. "I'll go find her now. Thanks Trudy!" I say as I fly out the door, the puppy on my heels.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Next chapter is gonna be fun to write. Muhahahaha. But anyways, I typed this last night on my phone, and it was like 600 some words, but I made this really really long. Hope you guys liked it (: Don't forget to review. **

**Song of the chapter: Sell Your Soul by Hollywood Undead**


	4. Chapter 3

"I know he'll be in good hands."

"Thank you so much!" I squeal. Sunny Smiles nods to me and crouches down to pet my new puppy.

"Now you be a good boy, ya hear?" Sunny chuckles when he begins to lick her fingertips. She stands back up, and the puppy runs around our legs.

"Trudy tells me you might have some work I can help with?"

Sunny nods. "Sure do. I'm in charge of clearin' out the water wells. They attract more critters than I can handle by myself most days, and with Cheyenne at home with her pups, shooin' away them geckos is a real pain."

"I can help with that."

"Great! I'll pay you for your troubles, you may even get a bonus."

"That would help me a lot," I look up at the sun. "When are you leaving?"

After a moment of thinking, Sunny speaks up. "'Bout an hour or so. You okay with that?"

"Of course," I say, picking up the dusty puppy.

"Alright. Meet me at the saloon. Trudy can watch the pup while we're out."

"Sounds great." Sunny nods once and turns to walk away.

"Thank you so much Sunny," I say.

"I always love helpin' people who are down on their luck," she replies.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, Sunny and I enter the saloon. I throw my dangerously light backpack on to the bar stool next to me, watching Sunny count my payment. Deep satisfaction flows through me as I exit the saloon with just under 900 caps total. Heading over to the supplies store, I smile at people who pass me. Today is a good day, and being friendly wouldn't hurt anything. The woman I saved at the well sees me and waves, I wave back.

The wood door slides shut behind me as I look around the store. A man in the back of the shop sees me, and I make my way to him.

"Howdy there, little lady." He says with a smile. I bring my backpack around to the front of me, setting it between me and the man.

"Hello," I respond, not entirely sure where to find the things I need.

"What can I get for you? Bullets, uniforms, magazines, drugs, toasters I've got it all." I resist the urge to ask him if he has a Power Armor suit.

"I'll need some 10mm bullets, microfusion cells, .308 rounds, and a few stimpacks." The man behind the counter stands still for a moment before he jumps in to action.

"What kind of 10mm rounds?"

"Umm... Normal?"

"1 cap per bullet."

"I'll take 100 then."

"Sure. Now how many MF cells do you want?"

"How much are they?"

"4 caps per cell." He sees my expression and quickly explains. "These babies are pretty rare around here."

"Oh.. I'll take 20."

".308 rounds are 2 caps per bullet."

"100 is fine."

"Great! Oh.. Looks like I'm fresh out of stimpacks. Sorry, girly. You might wanna head over to Doc Mitchell's place, he'll sell you some."

"Thanks, uh.."

"Excuse me! Where are my manners? My name's Chet." He smiles.

"Thank you, Chet." He wants to ask me for my name, but doesn't, thankfully.

"380 caps is your total."

I walk out of the supplies store with a little over 500 caps, at least my backpack is a little more heavy. Not looking where I am going, I mess around with my Pip-boy. Unfortunately I do not notice the hard cold metallic object coming straight at me until I am laying on my back in the dirt. The sun blocks my vision for a moment before it is hidden by a huge object looming over me.

"Sorry 'bout that, Miss! Didn't see ya there!" I stand up and look at the thing in front of me. A robot.

"Erm.. It's quite alright, I should have paid attention." My vision returns as seconds pass, and eventually I notice the robot's screen. A happy cowboy face stares back at me, matching the cheery voice from earlier. A tiny radar and camera rest on top of the robot, no doubt it's doing a scan for my reputation in Goodsprings as I stand there sizing it up.

"Not from 'round these parts, are ya?" The robot asks.

"Not exactly," I respond, backing up a step. "I've never seen a robot quite like you before."

"Well shucks! I'm a Securitron." When he doesn't explain any further, I speak up.

"Do you happen to know where the doctor lives? I need to stock up on my medical supplies," I explain.

"Sure thing Missy!" His big claw hand lifts up and points to a house. "Doc Mitchell can help ya with anything ya need." With that said, he straightens, and rolls away. "Have a nice day, Miss!"

I shrug to myself, moving on and heading toward the house the robot- a Securitron, is it?- pointed out. Reaching the door, I knock politely. Breaking and entering doesn't sound too appealing, especially with that robot roaming around. No one comes to the door, so I knock again. No answer.

Trying the knob, it does not surprise me when the door swings open, revealing an old dirty hallway. Low voices are speaking from further inside the house, arousing my curiosity. I silently enter the Pre-War home. Sticking close to the wall on the right, I travel down the empty hall. The voices stop, and a faint beeping sound fills the silence. I duck through a doorway, turning my head and stopping dead in my tracks.

A man stares back at me, and almost instantly I'm drawn to the color of his eyes, which are dark brown, almost black, blending with his pupils. His skin is pale white, similar to mine. As he watches me, he lightly jerks his head to the side, moving his almost-black hair out of his eyes.

Someone to my right clears their throat, and I look over to see an old man with smile lines and kind eyes.

"Sean, go try on those clothes I found for you. I'll be helping this young lady, just come back in when you're done." My eyes wander back to the man. Then I realize his attire, or rather, _lack_ of attire. He stands there in low-rising jeans that hang off his waist, leaving his chest exposed. I can feel the warmth flood up to my cheeks as I turn away. He leaves, and the doctor turns to me.

"I'm so sorry," I begin. Pressing the backs of my hands against my flushed face I attempt to cool my face, I take a deep breath. "It was really rude of me to just walk in. I tried knocking, but no one answered..." I trail off. Looking up at the Doctor, I watch his expression. He smiles kindly at me, holding out his hand.

"It's alright. You didn't try takin' nothin', so let's forget 'bout this whole mess. I'm Doc Mitchell." I take his hand and shake it. When he realizes I don't plan on answering, he clears his throat. "So what did you need?"

"Supplies. Stimpacks, mostly."

"No Med-x?" Mitchell questions, and I shake my head.

"I don't like drugs. Stimpacks will do nicely." The doctor nods and shuffles into the next room, then down a different hallway. He grabs a Med-kit box and walks back to where I stand patiently.

"I have 30 stimpacks here, but I reckon you don't want all of those."

"No sir, I'm not that wealthy." I smile. "Can I have 10?"

"Sure thing, hun. 400 caps is about right."

"Do you think you can bring it down to 250?" Doc looks up at me in surprise.

"Now why on earth would I wanna do a thing like that?" I look down at my shoes.

"Well sir, I need to get to New Vegas." Doc laughs, startling me. I look up at him questioningly, waiting for him to explain his outburst. He calms down, wiping his face with a handkerchief.

"Look sweetie, you're better off paying the full price. I'm helping you so you don't go spending it all on some Blackjack table." My expression falls, then an idea pops into my head. Picking up my backpack, I walk past him.

"Well if you don't want the 250, Chet can able to help me."

"Now, now, don't go anywhere. You've got yourself a deal."

I turn, smiling. "Great!" I grab the meds and hand him a small pouch with the caps in it. "Have a nice day, sir."

I turn toward the door, walking down the narrow hall. The man from earlier steps in my way, and I am relieved to see he now has a shirt on. That relief fades when I notice how form-fitting and tight the gray shirt is.

"Excuse me," I say quietly, looking at the ground. I sidestep, attempting to get to the door. A slender arm shoots out, blocking my path. Annoyance courses through me as I glare at the man. His lips are pale too, and his cheekbones hold little color. This guy could pass as a corpse.

"You're going to New Vegas?" He asks, brown eyes staring intently into mine, as if that would make me tell him the truth. His low voice makes me shiver, and my stomach twists up. He waits for answer, not moving an inch the whole time.

"Yes," I breath. No! You were supposed to say no! He looks at me curiously, and I am caught in his gaze. Dark brown eyebrows lower as he narrows his eyes. Did I say something wrong?

"Sean! Does the shirt fit?" Doc Mitchell's voice calls out. He turns his head to answer back, and I slip under his arm, moving silently. When he looks back at where I was, surprise colors his pale face. He turns to the door as I shut it.

* * *

**Author's Note: Wow, this chapter had a toonnnn of dialogue! So sorry for not updating sooner, I'm preparing for my exams which are in like a week and a half. So how's my story doing so far? I know it has no reviews and that makes me sad :( But I'm gonna write this story no matter how many people review. If any of you have suggestions or complaints, reviews help make the story better. Thanks! (:**

**Song of the Chapter: I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire by The Inkspots**

**Last Month's Total Views: 457 **


	5. Chapter 4

As soon as I open the Saloon door, I can hear voices arguing loudly inside. Making no sudden movements, I casually walk up to the bar. They don't notice me. Trudy is arguing with a man wearing some type of police uniform. A standard 9mm is on one hip, a beat up walkie-talkie on the other. His posture is stiff; he didn't come here for a drink. After a moment the man speaks. His voice is cold, threatening. .

"If you don't tell me where Ringo is _right_ _now_, me and my boys are gonna come back here and kill everyone that stands in our way." His hands twitch, and he looks around wildly. He is under the influence of a drug, maybe Psycho, or Buffout even. It would be so easy to end this. I reach for the gold pistol on my back. I hesitate. That walkie-talkie means he has friends. They would notice his absence and come, guns blazing, shooting first and asking questions later. If they are all crazed junkies, it would be simple to clear them out. Drugs make a person thoughtless, careless. They don't see the logic in their actions, they rush in head first. It also makes them dangerous. If their numbers were greater than ours, how many people would Goodsprings lose? No, it's too risky.

My hand drops to my side.

"You need to leave, sir. Now." The junkie turns to me, surprise coloring his face. He stands still, daring me to make a move.

In one swift movement, my gold pistol is fired, the bullet whizzing through the air. Everything is quiet, tense. The man blinks, his slow senses realizing he is still alive. I can hear his uneven breathing from here. Turning around, he looks where the bullet landed.

"That shot was a warning, sir. I did not miss on purpose." When he turns around, fear is in his eyes. Only when he is at the door does he reply.

"So be it. We'll be back at sundown." The door slams closed.

* * *

"You sure scared him," Trudy comments. I sit at the bar, already on my third Nuka-cola.

"But he'll be back," I add dryly.

Trudy puts away dishes, not looking at me. Something is on her mind. She doesn't turn as she speaks. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Do what?" I ask, half paying attention.

"Shoot that quickly. I ain't never seen somebody shoot so fast in my entire life."

Sighing, I look out the window. She has a right to be curious. I can be a trained assassin for all she knows. Turning back to face Trudy, I answer.

"I've been shooting since I was ten. Where I grew up, words didn't always solve problems. Whenever I got into trouble, I could usually talk my way out of a serious fight. But when I turned 19, I got a rude awakening." I chuckle humorlessly.

"Then what happened?" Trudy asks, dishes long forgotten.

"I grew up, that's what happened. Words don't do shit out in the Wasteland. That's where guns come in." I stand up, dropping caps on the counter.

"To answer your question, I learned by trial and error."

Trudy says nothing until I'm walking away from the bar. "I understand if you wanna run for the mountains right now," she says quietly.

"That doesn't sound half bad," I joke.

"What's stoppin' you then?"

I hesitate. Why _am _I still here? I have all the supplies I need to keep moving. Looking up at Trudy, I answer. "I'm not that cruel. But I don't like going into a fight blind."

She nods. "I'll tell you anything you wanna know."

"How about starting with who that man was?"

Trudy sits in a booth, gesturing for me to sit too. When I am lounging in the booth across from her, she continues. "Joe Cobb. He's a good for nothing evil-doer who doesn't mind burnin' down towns for fun."

"Is he a lone gun?"

"Naw, Cobb is one of the NCR Correctional Facility prisoners that escaped when the prison got overrun."

"The NCR let them take over? Haven't they tried to take the prison back?"

"NCR didn't _want _to give them the facility, but with the Legion crawlin' all over the place, there was nothin' they could do but let them have it."

"So Cobb is just an escaped prisoner with a death wish?"

Trudy nods. "A prisoner with a miniature army and _lots _of dynamite."

Before I can ask, she explains. "When NCR gave up and left, the prisoners busted into the armory. What do they find? A hell of a lot of dynamite and plenty of guns to pass around."

I shake my head, appalled by the NCR's lack of control and discipline.

"After the prisoners got loose, some of them left to join the Khans and Fiends. Others stayed and made it one of their main bases, but most of them left and became the Powder Gangers."

"What does Cobb want with Goodsprings?"

Trudy sighs. "A few days before you arrived, a trader from the Crimson Caravan comes into town. Tells us he's got Gangers on his trail and needs a place to crash. Of course Sunny agreed to help; nobody thought that what he was sayin' was actually true."

"What's the Crimson Caravan?"

"They're a very, very rich trading business. They're all over the place, but their main base in the Mojave is up by Vegas. Right now they'll do whatever the NCR wants, but I reckon if the Legion gets Hoover Dam they'll be like little puppy dogs."

"So this trader—"

"Ringo."

"Right. So this trader Ringo got into some trouble with the Powder Gangers and is now hiding in town, which is why the Powder Gangers are here too."

Trudy nods, rubbing her hands on her apron. "Sounds right to me."

I stand up, glancing at my Pip-Boy. "We have a little over an hour to prepare. Hopefully they won't come early. Who should I ask for help?"

She stands too. "Chet should have some spare supplies he can loan us. And you should probably go talk to Ringo and tell him what's going on— he's up at the abandon gas station. Ask Sunny and Old Pete if they can give us an extra hand. Doc Mitchell might give you some extra Stims if you ask nicely."

Making a quick checklist in my head, I nod, heading for the door. "You should talk to some of the other people in town, they'll listen to you."

I open the door and step outside. An old man sits on a chair next to the door. Maybe he can help. "Excuse me, sir."

The man turns to me. "Do you happen to know where Old Pete might be?"

"What do ya want with him?" The man asks, cold eyes staring me down.

"It's really important. Goodsprings is about to be filled with Powder Gangers in about an hour— I need as much help as I can get if we want Goodsprings to stay the way it is now."

After a moment of thought, the old man stands up. "I'll help ye, girly."

I smile slowly, and then go back to soldier mode. "Thank you, sir!"

Sprinting for Sunny's house, I update my objectives. Talk to Ringo, Chet, and Doc. Ringo should be the first one I talk to, he's the reason the Powder Gangers are here after all. Next should be Doc's house, since it's closest to the gas station, and people will most likely need medical supplies more than armor. Lastly I'll talk to Chet, if there's time.

Knocking on the door frantically, I take a deep breath. This is going to be fun, I'll get to save an entire town, loot a few corpses, get more caps, and when it's all over, I'll head out tomorrow. Piece of cake.

"If you make it to see tomorrow," a cold voice adds. I jump, my heart racing as my fingers close around the cool metal of my gun.

"You aren't always gonna make, you know. You're not made of steel." Twisting around, I look for the source of the voice. The wind blows, making me shiver. My hand never leaves the handle of the pistol.

To my relief Sunny opens the door just then. "Oh, it's you! Come on in, sugah!"

Hurrying in to the warm house, I briefly pet the Cheyenne's puppies.

"Is there somethin' you need?"

Standing up, I explain. "There was an incident in the Saloon. Joe Cobb will be here in less than 30 minutes with more men, we don't know how many. Trudy sent me to talk to you and Ringo. I'm gonna go ask Doc and Chet for supplies, but we have to hurry! Get ready, and warn as many people as you can."

Sunny nods quickly, leaping into action. I don't stick around; instead I hurry outside, heading for the gas station. Hopefully Ringo doesn't put a bullet through my head when I burst through the door.

I knock slowly, quietly, hoping not to startle him. When there is no answer, I open the door, cautiously making my way into the dimly lit store.

"Ringo?" I call out. My eyes adjust to the lighting, and I can just barely make out a bed and a bag of supplies. Taking a step forward, I hear the safety of a gun click off. My body hits the floor as Ringo starts firing from behind the counter to my right.

"Do you always open fire on guests?" I wonder out loud.

Ringo stops, but I don't take any chances. He peeks around the corner and freezes when he sees my gun. "Drop your weapon," I command, keeping my voice low and calm.

"If I do, you'll shoot me."

I growl, tossing my gun to the floor. "Happy now?"

He doesn't answer, and after a moment his gun drops too. We both stand.

"Sorry," Ringo says sheepishly. "I didn't know you were a girl," he adds.

I snort. "Girl or not, you could have killed me. If I didn't kill you first," I say slowly, bending down and picking up my gun. Ringo watches me carefully. I roll my eyes as I holster my pistol.

"Good thing I didn't kill you, the Powder Gangers would've probably taken me prisoner when they found out they couldn't do it." I watch his reaction as I speak. He stiffens at the mention of the Powder Gangers. Leaning against the counter, I look around at the old store. "Nice place," I compliment sarcastically.

"How do you know about my situation with the Powder Gangers?" Ringo asks. His voice is cold, confident. I don't have to look up to know he has a gun pointed at me.

Sighing, I decide to behave and play along. "Your little friend Joe Cobb came looking for you earlier. I scared him off, and now he'll be back with more of his friends in about—"I check my Pip-Boy. "—20 minutes."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

My patience is stretching thin, and I have to breathe through my nose to refrain from putting a bullet through his skull. Straightening, I look at him. "I don't have time for 20 questions, Ringo. I'm trying to save Goodsprings from the mess _you _got them into. Shoot me, if you want, but know that it will take more than a few bullet holes to stop me."

Ringo hesitates, and his gun sways. He doesn't notice that I inch closer with every word I say. When I am an arm's width away, I grab the front of the pistol, pulling it out of his hand and turning it to face him. "Will you come with me nicely, or do I have to drag your dead body to the Saloon?"

Without his gun, Ringo is back to the scared helpless person I saw only moments ago. He hangs his head in defeat, and I nod approvingly. "Good choice." Taking the clip out of the gun, I toss it away, handing him the empty pistol. "Now I don't have time to babysit you, so go to the Saloon, meet Sunny, and tell her you'll help. And if I get there and you're nowhere to be found, I _will _find you and kill you myself." I say the last words with a cold promise, and Ringo nods quickly.

We exit the gas station and I stay a moment longer to watch him run for the Saloon. When I'm positive he's with Sunny, I jog over to Doc Mitchell's house. For the third time today I am waiting for someone to answer the door. While I wait, another breeze rolls through the air, making my blond hair shift in front of my face. In annoyance, I push it out of the way. Blinking the bits of dust out of my eyes, I look up and gasp in horror. A little girl is standing in front of me, clutching a teddy bear in her arms. She is wearing a torn and dirty flower print dress, and her little shoes have holes in them.

None of these things are what makes me want to run away. Blood drips from the hem of the girl's dress, and a demonic smile covers the teddy bear's face.

"Why didn't you save me?" The little girl squeaks. I only stare in alarm as black blood pours from the girl's mouth when she opens it, revealing a set of jagged pointy teeth. Her eyes are glassy and blank, and I feel my stomach drop as I notice the razor-sharp knife that is in the girl's arm. Her empty eyes meet mine as she whispers something, too low for me to hear.

The door opens suddenly, and I blink at the abrupt change of light. When I open my eyes, the girl is gone, in her place a puddle of blood stains the ground. My stomach heaves, and I feel sick all of a sudden. Looking down I see a knife embedded up to the hilt in my stomach.

Looking up at the person in the doorway, I can only take a step forward before collapsing. Strong arms pick me up before I hit the ground, and darkness consumes me.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know, this note sort of ruins the whole atmosphere of the chapter. Sorry T_T Did you guys like it!? Thanks so much to all who've reviewed so far, I love you all so much! (No homo! .)** **This story was like a lottt longer than usual, by like roughly 1000 words :O Yeahh, not as long as I hoped, but longer for sure! I'm already working on the next chapter, and it should be up pretty soon. As requested by Reaper7412, the chapters **_**will **_**be longer. Probably about 2000 words instead of 1500. Sorry if it's not long enough, but I can only put so much into a chapter :L Review for more cookieess!**

**Reviewers Who Get X-mas Cookies:** YuriKaslov, Reaper7412, Blinded in a bolthole **(x4)**

**Song of the Chapter: Knife Called Lust by Hollywood Undead**


	6. Chapter 5

I bolt up in the small bed, gasping for air. _This isn't right!_ my brain screams. I have to get out of here. I need to help Goodsprings. Leave before it happens again! Stay and be a hero!

Shaking my head viciously, I throw my legs over the bed. I stand too quickly and everything spins as my body rights itself. I look around and notice I am in Doc Mitchell's house, where his patients are usually kept. Taking a step forward, I inhale quickly, remembering my knife wound. Looking down I see there is no knife, not even a recent scratch mark.

Sighing in relief, I hold on to the wall for support as I try to find Doc. Stumbling through the doorway, I find the Doctor sitting in a chair reading a book. His red reading glasses are perched on his nose and he doesn't look up as I enter.

"You're not very quiet, you know."

"If I wanted to be, you wouldn't have heard me." He smiles a little.

Looking out the window, I watch the sun set. It's so pretty here, especially when there are no buildings around—

_Sunset._

"Doc, do you have any spare medical supplies? Goodsprings is about to be attacked by Powder Gangers and I need meds to help the—"

"Calm down, dear. I sent Sean out with the supplies after he put you in bed. He's gonna help defend the town, too."

My temper rose. He just left me here? I'm supposed to be helping!

I look up to find Doc Mitchell watching me. "What?" I all but bark. He doesn't reply, just continues to observe me. Another minute passes before gunshots ring out.

"I have to go help."

He nods. "Go ahead, but come back and see me later. If you survive, that is."

Grabbing my pack and sniper rifle I roll my eyes. Aren't doctors supposed to help and comfort? Rolling my shoulders, I hoist myself onto the roof of the gas station. I hadn't planned on going up here, but it was closer than the saloon.

Setting my pack on the roof next to me, I lay on my stomach. Setting my rifle on its legs I breathe deeply, looking through the scope. First I spot Sunny and Cheyenne, then Old Pete and Trudy, a few other town people, then… My breath catches.

It's Sean. He's fighting a Ganger with just a pistol. Mumbling profanities I aim down the sights. My crosshairs are on the Powder Ganger's head, and all I need is a clear shot. He pushes Sean to the ground, standing over him with a bloody cleaver, preparing to swing. I exhale slowly, flex my finger, then it's over. The raider's head explodes into bits of matter and blood, covering Sean. The body falls down and I turn the rifle to scan for other enemies.

A group of three men is hiding behind a destroyed car. They crouch around something, and I shift to get a better view. One turns around, holding a stick of lit dynamite. I squeeze the trigger and the hand holding the dynamite is gone. The raiders duck behind the car as it explodes, killing one civilian that didn't see the dynamite. Breathing deeply, I search for a clean shot. Growling in frustration I wait for one of the raiders to make a move, but they don't. A second later, the car explodes, the Gangers blown to pieces.

Old Pete stands tall in triumph, and I smirk. A loud scream fills the silence and I scan the battlefield. Ringo falls onto his knees as Joe Cobb pulls his knife out, throwing it aside. He's dragging it out, he wants Ringo to suffer. My crosshairs line up with Cobb's head, and I prepare to shoot.

Before I can, the building below me collapses, and I fall with it. Standing up on shaky legs, I try to see through the smoke. My eyes scan the rubble for my rifle. There it is, a few feet to my right. Taking a step toward it, I shriek in surprise as my body is lifted and suddenly thrown onto the ground. I land on a piece of sharp concrete, making my back go numb. Squeezing my eyes shut, I concentrate on something other than the pain.

"Look what we have here, boys, a little girl. Are ya lost, girlie?" People laugh.

Opening my eyes, I see four large men standing over me. Powder Gangers. Turning my head, I see my assault rifle an arms-length away. Reaching for it now would be foolish; they would surely notice and kill me. Twisting onto my side, I try to lessen the pain on my back.

"Maybe we should take her back to camp with us, she looks like a lot of fun," another man says. I try to speak, but I end up coughing instead. I cough into my hand, my eyes widening when it comes away red.

"Get up!" One of the men barks. I struggle, pretending I am trying to do as he says. The man to the far right grabs my right arm, yanking me up.

"Let's take her back with us," the man holding me agrees. The others nod, turning to go.

"Let's not," I say, bringing my left fist up to collide with the first man's nose. He stumbles back, holding the broken cartilage. The others turn back to me, preparing to pounce. Retreating, I step over the broken pieces of building, careful not to trip.

The second man lunges, and I duck out of the way, out of his grip. With my back to the rest of the town, I wait for someone to make a move. The third man pulls out a rusty tire iron, charging for me. My gold pistol is in my hand before he can blink, and I pull the trigger several times, shooting him in the throat, shoulder, and forehead. He falls to the ground and I smirk.

"Thigh holsters," I say to the others, tapping the holster on my left thigh.

The man with the broken nose swears violently, holding up a hand to stop the other two men. "Point taken, girlie. Now let us go in peace, and we'll be on our way. We don't want any more trouble." The man is speaking slowly, stalling. He advances slowly with every word, so do his men. My pistol is still aimed at the first man's head, waiting for him to do something stupid.

"Now! Get her!" He yells, and I am picked up from behind. Cursing quietly, I drop my gun to the dirt. The second man is holding my arms to my sides, pinning me. His mouth is against my neck, and I can feel his breath against my skin. His hand traces the pattern of skin on my stomach. He chuckles as I struggle to get out of his grip. If I had a guardian angel, I wish they would show up right about now.

A bullet whizzes past my face, straight into the man holding me. He lets go of me as he falls, and my feet hit the ground. My guardian angel tosses me a pistol, and I catch it with grace, aiming at the first man's head. He trys to stop me by grabbing the gun out of my hand. My forearm blocks the blow he throws, and with my other arm I twist his free arm around, forcing him to drop the gun. Catching it before it falls, my index finger flexes and he falls to the ground, clutching his stomach in agony.

Looking up, I see the last man fighting with the shadowy figure. He is losing pretty bad against my savior. The sun has completely set. Only the moon sheds a small amount of light. I glance down to see the first man trying to crawl away. Crouching down, I smirk.

"Where are you going?" I ask sweetly. His eyes lock on to mine, and I can feel his life slipping through my fingers. Blood pours from his stomach, and I sigh. Take away his life or save him? Decisions, decisions.

"Go to hell," he spits.

I laugh humorlessly. "I've already been there." A single bullet travels through his brain and I look up to see the man who saved me standing over me.

We say nothing, and he offers his hand. I take it, and he pulls me up to his side. The blood is drying around my leg, and I can feel my back start to stiffen up. Recovery is not something I look forward to.

"Thank you," I say quietly.

He nods. "You're welcome."

That voice.

My blood runs cold and my stomach drops to my toes. Sean. Sean was the one who saved me. He looks at me and I can't help but smirk.

"Now we're even." He nods again, and I go back to the rubble. Picking through it, I find my assault rifle and my sniper rifle. Digging a little harder I find my pack. Sighing, I reach into it, taking out a small plastic bottle. Popping the bottle open, I dump a few blue pills into my hand, and then tip them down my throat. Sean says nothing as he watches me, and I am glad.

Returning to his side, I take my gold pistol from his outstretched hand. Our fingertips touch, and electricity runs through my arm. Jerking my hand back, I put the pistol into its holster. Walking to the center of town, I look at the damage. Powder Gangers lay in the dust, their blood soaking into the ground. Entering the Saloon, I find Trudy, Old Pete, Sunny, Ringo and Doc Mitchell gathered at the bar. Taking a step forward, I gasp as my knee locks up and I stumble backwards. Warm hands grab my sides to steady me, and I give him a grateful glance before I continue walking. His hand doesn't leave my elbow until I am securely sitting on a bar stool.

I look up to find Doc staring at us curiously, and I blush a little. Trudy comes over and hands me a Nuka-Cola, giving Sean a whiskey. I tip the soda back, feeling the way the liquid slides down my dry throat. After the first gulp, I hold the soda up, tipping it a little. Trudy, Sunny and Sean toast with me. I look at Doc and Ringo expectantly. They toast with the rest of us.

When my soda is empty, Trudy hands me another. "On the house," she mouths to me and I smile. Chatter begins quietly between us, and Ringo comes over to me. He backs away when Sean glares at him for trying to sit in between us, but I just shrug. Motioning for him to sit on the other side of me, he does.

Leaning in, he speaks quietly. "I— I wanna thank you."

"Thank me?" I ask with surprise. He nods quickly.

"I would've been dead if it weren't for you. You made me stay and help. If I woulda run off, them Powder Gangers woulda killed me."

"You think you'll be okay?" I inquire, gesturing to his bandage-covered torso. He waves me off.

"Not the worst thing that's every happened to me." He stands, giving me a hug. I return it. Ah what the heck, we made it out alive, that's what matters.

Resting my throbbing head against the counter, I watch Sunny chat excitedly with Ringo and Trudy and Doc, explaining something about new houses being built. Old Pete and Doc talk with each other about the dynamite Pete had to use tonight. My eyes drift shut, the quiet hum of voices soothing me.

Opening my eyes, I stare at the cracks in the ceiling. Sighing, I turn onto my side, watching Sean clean his pistol. The pistol he threw to me. He looks up to me, smiling a little when my eyes meet his. Breaking eye contact, I move onto my back, snuggling under the blanket.

"How did I get here?" I ask, already knowing the answer. I just want to hear his voice.

"I carried you."

"What time is it?" He doesn't reply so I turn my head to him. He is concentrating on the Pip-boy on his forearm.

After a minute or two of silence, he replies. "Just after midnight. Doc fixed you up. "

"It took you that long to find the time?" I ask, holding back a giggle.

"No, I just— Okay, yes. I got this thing a few days ago. I'm still getting used to the controls."

An idea pops into my head, and I sit up, struggling a little. I wave off Sean's help, and he sits back down. "Come here," I command quietly. He listens, and sits on the edge of the bed. "Give me your Pip-boy."

He gives me his left arm obediently.

After hitting a number of buttons on my Pip-boy and his, I smile. "There. Here's your map. See that arrow? That's me." He nods his head, black hair falling into his eyes. I spend the next hour showing him all the neat tricks and uses for the Pip-boy 3000. Truth be told, my heart would not stop racing. Being this close to him was making me giddy, and that was scaring me. No matter. Tomorrow I'm going to talk to Trudy, and then I'll be gone.

I lean against him, and we continue to talk for another hour. Time feels like it has no effect on me. My eyelids become heavy and drift shut. I fall asleep against him, sleeping soundly through the whole night for the first time in a long time.

* * *

**Author's Note: A little bit of fluff at the end. Hope you guys had a great Christmas and an even better New Year! I planned on having this chapter done last week Sunday, but Christmas = family, and family = drama. I'm so glad it's over, haha. Was this chapter good or bad? First action/fight scene and I'm not very good at it, I'd say. Let me know what you guys think! I am not going to post the next chapter until this story has at least 15 reviews. Yep, I'm blackmailing you guys! Muhahaha. But seriously, this story has so many views, and only a couple reviews. Not good! When I last checked this story has 9 reviews, so only 6 to go! And you guys can review on any chapter you want, not just this one. **

**Last Month's Total Views: 1,150**

**Song of the Chapter: Open Letter by Amity Affliction**

**Last Updated: 1-21-13**

***UPDATE*: I fixed the ending of this chapter, it was just soo...bleh. But hopefully it's better now ( :**


	7. Chapter 6

When I open my eyes, the sun is faintly peaking through the windows. Standing up carefully, I avoid making any sort of loud noise. Tiptoeing into the hall, I grab my boots and open the door. Thankfully, the old wood does not creak. Blinking against the sun, I shut the door behind me. Sitting on the front stair, I put on my boots and check the contents of my backpack. Everything looks right.

Standing up, I breathe in the fresh air, glad there is no wind. Only the rising sun gives me warmth as I head toward the saloon. Even though it's only around 5am, residents of Goodsprings are already up and working, planting their crops or caring for their Bighorner and Brahmin herds.

"You're up early," Trudy comments when I take my usual seat at the bar.

Nodding, I smile. "Never really been much of a heavy sleeper."

When breakfast is served and the morning pleasantries are done, I clear my throat.

"So Trudy. . ." She looks up at me, her kind eyes curious. I continue. "It's about time for me to keep moving."

"Oh." Is all she says.

"And I was wondering which direction I should take to get to Vegas," I finish.

"Head south of Goodsprings towards Primm, then continue south from there until you get to Nipton. Come around and head up to Novac, then it's a straight shot north until you hit Freeside."

Thousands of questions run through my mind, and Trudy smiles, taking a seat beside me. "Fire away," she declares.

"Can you mark all these on my map?" I ask, showing her my Pip-Boy. She nods, and a few minutes later, every major settlement I would need to pass through is marked. "Anything I should look out for?" I inquire when she's finished.

"Don't trust _anyone _you meet in Nipton. It's a town full of prostitutes and greedy men." I nod, mentally noting that. "Novac is a pretty friendly place, so is Primm. But I think the most dangerous of all these places is Freeside."

"Why?" I question, my curiosity bubbling over.

"It's a place that surrounds New Vegas, but it ain't as pretty as it sounds. Everyone who travels miles and miles to get to Vegas and doesn't have enough money for a passport gets stuck there. It's rundown and dirty, not to mention dangerous. I'd stay on the main roads if I was you."

I nod. "Wait, how do you know so much?"

She sighs and rubs the back of her neck. "Long story, but if you're really interested I'll give ya the short version." I smile encouragingly and she continues. "I lived in Freeside for a while, working in the local bar as a bartender. Then the owners decided they wanted me gone— claimed I stole money from them. With my reputation in the dirt and only the clothes on my back, I got the hell out of there, staying with the Crimson Caravan until they passed through here, which is where I decided to stop."

"Why did you get run out of the entire town? Didn't anyone believe you when you said it wasn't true?"

"That's what I thought too. Turns out, one of the owners is really close to the people. He uses that to his advantage, so when someone wants to make themself known or on good terms with the folks of Freeside, they go to him. He lies to the people."

"And they believe him?" I ask, unable to hide my shock. How could the people believe and trust such a dirty and evil man?

Trudy nods, sighing. "He runs the bar; he keeps most of the people alive, or the people who don't want to be alive content with booze. Oh and I forgot to mention, he doesn't help just anyone off the streets with their reputation. He makes them pay money, lots of it."

I nod, standing up. Tossing a bag full of caps onto the counter, I smile. "That should be about 400 total. Thank you for everything Trudy." I set the room key on the counter too.

"Don't forget about your little ball of fluff, now. He's been causin' me trouble all mornin'." I stifle a giggle as the puppy comes scampering in, his paws slipping on the floor, causing him to lose his balance and land in a heap on the floorboards.

Giving Trudy a hug, I thank her again. As a turn to leave, she calls out. "You never gave your name."

"Mercy."

* * *

About 10 minutes of traveling south, we come to stop. The road splits in two different directions, and while I want to explore, I need to stay focused. Whistling to the puppy, we approach the little shack up ahead. An old weathered sign reads, _Jean Sky Diving. _Entering the location into my Pip-Boy, we turn right.

"I think that's Primm," I say to no one in particular, pointing at the huge cluster of buildings with a Pre-War rollercoaster running through it. Walking on the cracked pavement, I read the signs we pass under.

The wind blows, causing dust and bits of debris to fly around. I'm surprised we haven't run into anything to kill yet, maybe because the road is frequently visited by caravans and such? Dismissing it, I pick up the puppy, carrying him over a puddle of radiation. Wouldn't want him to turn into a Yao Guai or something. Setting him back down, I decide the silence is too unsettling. It might attract some unwanted attention, though. Shrugging, I turn on Radio New Vegas, setting the volume to medium.

"_You're listening to Radio New Vegas, your little jukebox in the Mojave Wasteland. I'm Mr. New Vegas, and I'm here for you." _A pause. _"Whoops, better put on my newsman fedora here." _

_A package courier found shot in the head near Goodsprings has reportedly regained consciousness, and has made a full recovery. Now _that _is a delivery service you can count on!" _

_Now I've got some Dean Martin coming up talking about the greatest feeling in the world: love. Ain't That A Kick In The Head? It sure is, Dean-o, it sure is."_

A jumpy Pre-War song fills the silence while the wheels turn in my head. Goodsprings? I just left there; in fact, I'd been there for a few days. No one was shot, except when the Gangers came in and tried to kill everyone, but in the head? Could they mean Ringo? No, he said 'package courier', and Ringo is with the Crimson Caravan. Who would shoot a courier though? Maybe if they were carrying something valuable, but the odds of that happening are very small. It makes sense though; Goodsprings is in the middle of nowhere, inhabited by only a town full of normal people who have very little experience in combat. It's the perfect place to rob someone. But why?

"You there! Halt!" I jump, my eyes searching for the person. A man in a uniform stands a little off to the right, his armor blending with the desert sand. My hand drifts to the gold pistol on my back.

"State your business."

"I'm harmless," I say as sweetly as possible. The soldier doesn't completely buy it, but his eyes soften. Turning off my radio, I continue. "I just want to check out Primm," I tell the soldier, gesturing to the big building on the left.

The man shakes his head. "Primm is off-limits to civilians."

"Why?" I ask curiously. Off-limits or not, I was still going to check out Primm.

"Some escaped convicts have taken over the town; they've got all the civilians pinned inside the casino."

"Why haven't you done anything about it, then?" The soldier shifts nervously.

"That information is strictly classified." He says, his voice breaking at the end. _Classified information is always the best kind of information_, I think to myself. Taking a step closer to the soldier, I smile.

"I love how you follow orders so well," I purr. The soldier stands there, dumbfounded. "But I am going in to Primm either way." My gun settles under his chin. "You can tell me everything and live," I smile sweetly. "Or become ant food. Your choice."

The soldier stumbles over his words. _He's just a kid_, the back of my mind notes. _Yes, but a kid for information that I want_, the other part of my brain argues.

"Tick tock, I haven't got all day," I say, getting a little impatient. When the soldier does nothing, I sigh. His eyes widen as the safety clicks off.

"Three, two, on—"

"I'll tell you everything! Please don't shoot me!" The kid cries out. Laughter from farther up the road captures my attention. Multiple soldiers talk loudly, their laughter echoing off the rocks from the mountain on my right. One holds a pair of binoculars.

"Get down," I hiss to the soldier, who drops immediately. We hide underneath part of the old bridge, out of sight. The puppy barks quietly, his fur raising. "Shh, boy. Shush." I stroke his brown fur in an attempt to calm him down. Laughter sounds from above, and I slap my hand over the soldier's mouth, silently daring him to try something. The soldiers leave, walking away from the bridge.

Standing up, I pull the soldier up with me. "Tell me everything. Now."

"Alright, alright. We got stationed here to contain the situation at Primm, but we don't have the authorization to go clear out the convicts. One of our men tried to go in when we got here, but the convicts set up traps all over the roads, mines and what not."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" I ask, smirking. Why won't the NCR take responsibility for their own actions? They're the reason the convicts are out loose in the first place, they should take care of it.

"I'm going to fix your mess. And if any soldiers start shooting at me, you'll be the first one I come after, got it?" The soldier nods, his arms shaking. "And just so you don't get any ideas," I grab the rifle off his back, pulling out the ammo. For good measure, I take the ammo belt off of him, putting it all in my pack.

Heading up to where the other soldiers were standing, I glance around. About 50 feet away, a group of soldiers are huddled around a barrel of fire, talking and laughing.

"They don't take their jobs too seriously, do they?" I ask the puppy at my feet. He growls in response, and I dart between buildings. Sliding along the weak brick walls, I duck out of sight when a soldier passes me. The woman stands at the end of the bridge for a moment before moving on with her patrol.

"Very sloppy," I note, clicking my tongue in disapproval. When she has rounded another corner, I stand where she was moments ago. The soldier said there were mines on the roads, most likely just the main ones, unless they were extremely careful. Stepping forward, I throw my hand out to stop the puppy from following. A foot away sits a small mine, the light on top giving it away. My eyes search for more, and I easily find the pattern. Leaping forward, I crouch over the mine, deactivating it in an instant.

"Here goes nothing," I mutter, leaping for the next one. _Right, left, right, left._ In a matter of minutes I am crouching safely on the other side. Putting all 6 deactivated mines in my pack, I motion the puppy over. He trots across the bridge, his brown head low.

A loud _clank! _breaks the silence, startling me. Looking around, I notice we're in the middle of an open area. I curse quietly, picking up the puppy and darting to the closest building. Pressing myself up against the wall, I peak around the corner. Three tall convicts clad in Powder Ganger armor walk down one of the main roads. They don't notice me, and I breathe a sigh. One has an assault rifle, one has a pistol, and the other has a crowbar. _Could be worse_, I think to myself. When they are out of sight, I duck into the building.

"We should be safe in here for a little while," I whisper to the puppy. Quietly ascending the stairs, I glance around. The building has little cover, and is mostly a skeleton of what it once was. The roof is completely missing, leaving little shade. "This should do nicely," I say to myself. Setting down my pack, I pull out the mines from earlier, setting them up on the stairs. When all six are activated around the entrance and staircase, I pull out my sniper rifle, attaching the silencer.

Across the way, an unused gas station rests peacefully, and further back two recently-built shacks sit against the iron fence. About three men patrol the fence near the shacks. Waiting for an opening, I aim down the sights. Steadying my breathing, I smirk when one convict decides to go off on his own. When he rounds the corner of the shack, I fire, his head splattering against the dirt.

The other two stand still, quietly conversing with one another. Before they can realize their friend is missing, I shoot the one standing closest to the shack, and when he is down, I fire at the one with his back to me. Just as the bullet connects with his skull, he lets out a shout.

I curse quietly, swinging my gun around, watching the main road. Someone _definitely _heard that. Minutes pass and nothing happens. My muscles tense when I hear the first mine go off. Dropping my rifle, I take out my pistol.

"They went around!" I comment in disbelief to my loyal puppy. He growls, his tail drooping low.

Another minute of silence passes and the second mine goes off, the convict letting out a yell of surprise before the third mine explodes.

_This is getting boring, _I think to myself. Standing straight, I cautiously approach the stairs. I can hear murmurs and whispers of panic, though they're too low for me to hear. It sounds like multiple voices though; maybe it's the convicts I saw when I first got into Primm. Grabbing the sixth mine, I fling it down the stairs, ducking behind the half-wall as it explodes. The sixth mine sets off the other two, and the lower half of the building is clouded with smoke. When it settles, I stand, aiming down the sights of my pistol, searching for movement.

There is not a sound except for my racing heartbeat and the panting of the puppy beside me. Sneaking over to the window I was previously at, I look out at the area below me. If there are any more convicts, they're not out there. Packing away my sniper rifle, I sling the pack onto my shoulders, cautiously making my way down the stairs. When I reach the bottom, I gag, plugging my nose with my hand. Multiple bodies, or what's left of them, rest on the floor. Blood is splattered on the walls and floor. Body parts and bits of flesh coat the faded wood, making it slippery. Sliding out of the gory room, I don't bother searching the corpses. Sneaking along the line of buildings, I head for the building marked _Vikki and Vance Casino. _That soldier said the residents of Primm were being held in there. Slipping across the street, I dart for the doors, opening one and slipping inside, quietly closing it after the puppy is inside with me.

"Hands up, girlie." A voice says, and I sigh, folding my hands behind my head, facing the door. _This should be interesting._

* * *

**Author's Note: Another chapter is complete! And it only took about 4 hours.. Oh well. Speaking of, I know this story doesn't have 15 reviews yet, but that's okay. I don't want to be the author of a story that sits at the bottom of your 'Follow' list because I'm too stubborn to post another chapter. And since I have today off, I figured I might as well get this over with. Tell me what you thought of this chapter, and check out the last chapter's ending, I totally cut out most of that sappy useless lovey dovey stuff (just so you all know, the Courier in this story is actually based off a real living person, and I got kind of carried away :p). Anyways, have a great week to all who are reading this (:**

**Song of the Chapter: A Prophecy by Asking Alexandria**


	8. Chapter 7

"Now keep you're hands where I can see 'em."

I suppress an irritated sigh. Being a smart mouth will definitely not help in this situation. Facing the doors, my back is exposed and open, not a feeling I like all that much. _Maybe I shouldn't have stepped in and tried to help, _I think bitterly. Then maybe I would be on my way and out of this mess. Rolling my shoulders, I glance down at the puppy sitting next to my feet. _Here goes nothing. . ._

"I mean you no harm. I just want to help Primm." Not exactly a lie. The room is silent, and no doubt there are multiple guns trained on my defenseless body while they try to decode my words. "But if you'd rather I just leave. . ." I add, partially hoping they would let me walk away.

"She ain't lying, Johnson." A kind, elderly voice says quietly. She speaks up this time, talking to me. "Come on over here, hun." _It might be a trick, _I think to myself. Lowering my arms slowly, I turn around. As I suspected, there are four guns trained on me. Taking a moment to count everyone in the room, the total comes up to 37 people. Some are just kids, and when one looks at me, I know I'm going to stay and help.

The kind woman who spoke to me earlier waves me over. "You look like yer thirsty! How about some Sunset Sarsaparilla?" It takes me a moment to remember what she's talking about. _Nuka-Cola's counterpart, a popular soft drink in the west. Mass produced before the bombs dropped, and fairly common in the Mojave._

Nodding, I smile. Taking a step forward, I pat my leg, the puppy quickly following. A little girl who was watching me earlier squeals happily and runs up to the dog. An older boy, about 14 perhaps, tries to stop her.

"Sorry, lady." The boy says apologetically as he tries to pry the girl off the energetic pup.

"It's no problem. My little baby hasn't gotten much attention as of late," I say with a shrug. The boy stops tugging on the little girl, and we watch as they roll around and play on the floor. Looking up from the cheerful scene, I see that mostly everyone has gone about their business. Except an older man and a guy about my age, who both watch me intently. "Why don't you keep an eye on him for me?" I ask the children, gesturing to the furball at my feet. They nod excitedly. Stepping away from them, I approach the older man. He has laugh lines and kind eyes, and his faded and dirty overalls tell me he's a hard worker.

"So what's the situation?" I ask him, assuming he's the one in charge.

He looks at me in surprise. "You _do _want to help?" The man asks, shocked.

"Yes." I nod. "What do you need me to do?"

It takes the man a minute to answer. "Them gangers— they gotta go. And to do that, well. . ." He paused.

"Okay, so say that I kill them all, then what?" I ask as gently as possible. I could understand why the man didn't want any more blood spilled in this town, but Powder Gangers, from what I've seen so far, are relentless.

"Then we need to get the law and order back in town. And there's really no good way to do that, since our Sheriff has gone missing and our Deputy is being held hostage in the hotel."

"I'll try to find out what happened to the Sheriff," I say, a plan forming in my head. "While I search I'll be clearly out the unwanted guests. I'll be back when I know more." Turning, I pass the kind woman from before. She hands me the drink, and as I walk to the doors, I let the tingly liquid slide down my throat.

* * *

As soon as I step outside, I'm being shot at. I set the bottle down on the ground as bullets fly past me. Ducking behind a crumbling pillar, I pull out the golden pistol. The sun reflects off the weapon and I take a brief moment to admire its beauty.

Shouts and more bullets pull me from my thoughts abruptly, and I go into soldier mode. Peeking around the pillar, I see two gangers firing blindly at where I am, not even bothering to take cover. One sees me and lets out another shout, and I quickly duck. Bullets embed themselves into the wall and pillar behind me. I smirk slightly when one stops shooting. Jumping around the other side of the pillar, I fire at the startled gangers. The one who's reloading drops his rifle, pulling out a pistol. Three shots later and he's on the ground, not moving. Before I can shoot the other ganger, a knife _whooshes_ through the air and settles in the raider's throat.

Startled, I straighten, my pistol aimed at the man who stands behind me. _It's the kid from earlier, _I notice. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I lower my gun. Turning around, I head for the building marked 'Mojave Outpost'. This place seems like a good starting point. I'm slightly surprised no other gangers have come outside to see what the commotion is. _They're probably all holed up inside the hotel, _I assume as I stare up at the huge building. If all those floors were accessible, it would be a serious bitch to find the Sheriff and Deputy.

Stopping outside the Mojave Express building, I look down at a corpse that's propped up against the wall. Crouching down, I search the front pockets. Finding a handful of bottlecaps and a thin piece of paper, I stand back up, stuffing the loot into the side of my pack. Slipping inside the building, I look around the dimly lit office area. Nobody in here, I decide as I shuffle through papers on the counter. Certainly not a place a Sheriff would live. I'm about to leave when I notice a pile of scraps on the counter. Brushing it off, I head back outside.

I cross the street again, pacing outside the doors to the casino. The kid leans up against the wall. When I look up, he's watching me with a concealed expression on his face.

"What?" I snap, halting my pacing session. He laughs, much to my annoyance.

"You look so pissed off, is all. It's very amusing." He confesses with a half-smile.

Going back to my pacing, I spin my pistol around my fingertips. "The guy inside told me the Sheriff and Deputy have gone missing. Either they're dead or taken hostage. He also said the Deputy is being held in the casino, which is probably filled to the brim with Powder Gangers. There aren't many patrols around the town, which means whatever is inside; they want to keep it safe. Getting in and out without a scratch would be a miracle. Rushing in head-first, guns blazing would be suicide; no one knows how many people are in there, or how many traps they have set up. Problem is, I can't go in by myself, I don't know the layout of the building—"

The kid interrupts me and I glare at him, continuing my pacing. "You're over-thinking this, doll. Just have the NCR fix everything." His words make me stop, and I look at him, scoffing.

"What good will they do? They need clearance before they can enter Primm, and getting it would be easy, just time-consuming. My guess is we have about a day before the Gangers get bored and start killing."

"So what do you propose we do?" He asks calmly, as if he has all the answers.

"_We?" _I repeat. Does this guy actually think he's helping me?

He nods. "Yeah. This is my home; I want it to be safe. I'm assisting you whether you want me to or not." Grumbling to myself, I look at my Pip-Boy. I have a few Stealth Boys. Maybe if I slip inside I can get the Sheriff and/or Deputy out. . .

"But first of all, we should probably check the Sheriff's house." I stop again, not even trying to hide my annoyance.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I all but shout. He says nothing, just stuffs his hands into his pockets and strolls along the side of the building. Sighing, I follow.

We round the corner, alert for any wandering raiders. "I'm Danny," he says, making small talk. I roll my eyes.

"Great. Hi. Nice to meet you," I say sarcastically, twisting the pistol around my fingers. He chuckles.

"Not so friendly, are ya?" He asks as we stop outside a small shack.

"Not when there's work to be done," I answer, pushing past him into the building.

The smell of rotting corpses hit my nose as soon as I step inside. Fighting the stench, I look around the main room. Desks, papers, useless baubles. Nothing of any importance.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" Danny asks from behind me, and I suppress a sigh.

"Anything that might give us clues as to what happened to the Deputy, or anything concerning the murder of the Sheriff."

"What?" Danny asks, shocked. I give him a confused look. "How do you know the Sheriff is dead?" He asks, surprised.

Gesturing to the next room, I answer. "The odor of dead bodies. You don't smell it?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I thought that was just a dead critter or somethin'." He says as he continues into the other room. His shout of surprise doesn't surprise me. Seeing decaying corpses for the first time is always a wake up call. After a while, you just get used to it.

I step outside, breathing in the fresh air. Leaning up against the shack, I make a note in my Pip-Boy. _Sheriff and presumably wife are rotting inside the Sheriff's house. Bodies look (and smell) about 3 days old, max. No sign of Deputy._

Danny emerges with red eyes, and we say nothing. He probably knew them personally. Flicking my lighter open, I light a cigarette and toss it on the side of the building.

"What are you doing?" He asks, more surprised than angry.

"Getting rid of the bodies. It'll attract some pretty nasty things if we leave them there." We watch in silence as the shed goes up in flames.

* * *

After Danny and I explain what we'd found out, Johnson sighs and rubs his temples.

"What do ya wanna do, girlie? I'm all ears."

I jump into action. "My guess is they're holding the Sheriff deeper in the hotel, and there will probably be multiple guys every so often, depending on how well they set up their defenses. I'm gonna sneak in through the front doors, clear out anyone that gets in my way, grab the Sheriff, and get out."

"No offense, darlin', but how do you plan on sneaking past a bunch of Powder Gangers?" Johnson asks, and I pull out a metallic object. It shines in the dim light of the casino, and the buttons on its cover light up and flash.

"With stealth," I answer, smirking.

* * *

Around dusk, I drop my pack off by Johnson. Slipping outside, I stick to the shadows. Can never be too careful. I stop just outside the doors to the hotel, pulling the metallic device around my wrist, entering in the time. 20 minutes. 20 minutes before the Stealth Boy loses energy and the cloaking device gives out. I stare at my hands as they slowly start to become see-through. Pulling out my gold pistol, I attach its suppressor. The only weapons I have are my knife and pistol, so I'll have to be extremely careful with how I approach each Ganger.

Opening the door, I slide inside and quietly shut the door behind me. Just as I suspected, tables are overturned and blockades are set up all over the room. Two guys talk at the back of the room, oblivious to my presence. Good. Crouching alongside the tables, I tiptoe around the barrier, careful not to move too fast. Coming up behind the first Ganger, I pull out my knife, holding it in my right hand. The suppressed pistol is in my left hand, and in one quick motion, I slit the first guy's throat while shooting the second in the head twice. No time to hide the bodies, I think as I make my way into the wide hallway.

A female ganger patrols the hall, and while her back is turned, I duck into another room. It looks like an empty supply closet, but it'll have to do. Picking up an empty tin can, I toss in quietly through the doorway. The woman hears it and comes over. Her tire iron is raised as she cautiously enters the room. I stand to the side of the door, completely unmoving. She takes another step forward, and I lunge. One hand covers her mouth as the other cuts her throat. The blood pours from her wound onto her skimpy clothing as I drag her behind the counter.

Heading back into the hallway, I quickly sneak to the other side of the big room, where I can hear more commotion. Peeking around the corner, I stifle a groan. Over ten Gangers are spread out around the big room, and one has a flamethrower. But besides that, their weapons are cheap and useless in a gun fight. To the left, a set of double doors are closed, with two guys guarding it. There's no way I'd be able to sneak in there, pick the lock, and get the Sheriff out without being seen. I check the Stealth Boy.

_Time remaining: 11 minute(s) and 28 second(s)_

Going back into the hallway, I look around. There's an elevator, but I doubt it would take me anywhere near that locker room. Glancing around quickly, my mind races for a solution. A small wooden door hides behind some fake potted plants, and I head toward it. Silently moving the plants out of the way, I crouch down next to the door. It takes me under a minute to pick the simple lock, and the door swings out, revealing a smaller run-down hallway. I crouch and walk down the hallway, freezing when a big muscular man walks past me. Pressed up against the wall, I don't breathe as he sees the opened door.

"Thought I locked that damned door earlier," he mumbles to himself. I watch as he steps into the hall. He stares at the plants for a moment, probably remembering their previous location, when suddenly he falls to the ground with a soft _thud! _To my shock and fear, the body slowly gets dragged out of the doorway. Not daring to move, I remain plastered up against the wall. My breath catches in my throat when a moment later a figure steps into view.

_Sean. _

"Stealth Boy, huh?" He asks in a quiet voice, and after a moment I realize he's talking to me.

I nod, then realize he can't see me. "Yeah, I prefer to remain unseen while on highly classified stealth missions," I whisper. He lets out a soft chuckle as he closes the door quietly behind him.

"Highly classified? I don't think so. If it was, Johnson wouldn't have told me every little detail about it." Anger flairs up in me at his words, but I ignore it. I growl and glance down at my Stealth Boy.

_Time remaining: 6 minute(s) and 41 second(s)_

Turning the corner, I quietly rush down the hall. There's practically no time left. Opening the door at the end of the hall, I glance in. No guards, just an old man with grey hair tied up and propped against a wall. That must be the Deputy. Rushing towards him, I undo his bonds and cover his mouth with them. He jolts awake, panicking. It must not be easy to be woken up by some invisible person tying ropes around your head, I think with a smirk. Thankfully, Sean comes in a moment later. He stifles a laugh.

He crouches down next to me, and I wonder how he knew where I was. "Deputy Beagle?" I whisper quickly. He glances around in fear, and Sean lets a small chuckle escape.

"She wants to know if you're Deputy Beagle or not," Sean repeats, and the man nods, his eyes focusing on something in Sean's hands. I glance down to and jump away. He's holding three Holy Hand Grenades in his right hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" I whisper harshly.

"Taking care of the unwanted company," he answers nonchalantly, standing up. I stand too, pulling the Deputy up with me.

"Now you have to be as silent as the grave if you want to live, got it?" I whisper to Beagle, and I notice Sean flinch. Brushing it off, I grab the Deputy by the arm and lead him out of the dim hallway. We stick to the shadows, and somewhere along our escape, I lost Sean. I all but toss Beagle onto the sidewalk when we exit the building.

"Get your ass into that casino, now." He doesn't question me, and runs across the street.

I reenter the building as my Stealth Boy dies, and I can see my legs and arms. I'm somewhat relieved, but at the same time annoyed. How am I supposed to find Sean in this big hotel? Where did he go, anyways?

Retracing my steps, I hear gunshots from the main room, and I rush over, pistol drawn. Sean is ducking behind an overturned table as Gangers rush at him. Turning around, I sneak through the other door, moving silently past the raiders who are too occupied with Sean to notice me. My eyes land on the guy with the Flamer, and I aim. Three, two, _one. _

I fire my pistol and the bullet tears through the gas tank of the flamer, exploding the Powder Ganger who was using it, as well as setting fire to two others. Quickly finishing them off, I reload, running and ducking behind some barriers as the other raiders notice me and start shooting.

"Incoming!" Sean calls out, and a moment later, a big explosion rips through the room. I stand on shaky legs and see Sean do the same. Bits of guts and body parts are spread throughout the whole room, and I groan in disgust as I wipe some of it off my clothes. The Powder Gangers are all dead, but—

"What about the others in the upper levels?" Sean asks, and I shrug, walking towards him. He smiles devilishly, and I eye him with curiosity. "There's only one way in and out of this hotel," he explains. I nod. He says nothing, but heads towards the elevator. Realization flows through me and I grin. Pressing the button on the elevator, we wait for it to reach us. When it does, I hit the button for the top floor before quickly stepping out.

As the doors are sliding closed, Sean pulls the pin on the last two grenades before tossing them inside. The doors ding shut and we sprint to the exit. As the cool air hits my face, the grenades explode, and the elevator crashes to the main level, just as planned. Any remaining Powder Ganger hiding in the hotel will have no way out, now.

* * *

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you done for us," Johnson says to me. I smile and nod, pulling my pack higher up on my shoulder. We stand outside the casino in the cool breezy air as the residents of Primm move things from out of the casino into their original homes. My puppy bounds out of the doors, barking happily. The young boy and his little sister follow, shortly after.

"We took really good care of 'im!" the little girl proclaims proudly, and I smile.

Her brother smiles too, and then turns shy. "I hope you don't mind ma'am, but we named him while you was busy."

"It's alright. I've never been very good with names anyways. What did you pick?"

"Demon!" The little girl shouts, and my puppy barks in reply. I chuckle.

"I think it suits you, boy," I say as I scratch him behind the ears.

Johnson turns to me, and I stand up. "Now that them Gangers are gone and what with out Sheriff dead and all. . ."

"I already found you the perfect replacement," I assure him. He looks at me with confusion, and I smile widely as Danny walks through the doors.

Johnson smiles and nods, thanking me one last time before heading to the Outpost. Demon and I head out of the town after saying goodbye to the children and others. We just reach the outskirts of town when Sean catches up to us.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"Nipton."

"And then?" He asks, a little more urgently.

"The Strip."

A grin breaks out over his face at that, and I look at him with concern.

"I'm heading to the Strip too," he explains. I nod, not sure what he's getting at. "I've got a few scores to settle, and it gets kinda lonely out on the road by myself. . ." What is he—?

_Oh._

"Well I wouldn't mind a new traveling buddy," I answer, and his smile gets even wider.

"Alright. So should we head out to Nipton tomorrow?" He asks, and I check my Pip-Boy. Just after 11. I nod, stifling a yawn. "C'mon," he says, lightly grabbing my elbow as he leads me toward the Mojave Outpost. "We can spend the night here."

"Won't Johnson be upset?" I inquire.

Sean shakes his head. "Nah, all couriers are allowed to bunk down here whenever they need too."

* * *

**Author's Note: Ohmygoshhhhh I am so sorry for not updating in over a MONTH! My best friend is pretty suicidal right now, and too be honest, I've also been experiencing some writer's block . But those are no excuses! Also, I originally had a three day week, but today was a snow day, sooooo hopefully I'll be able to post another chapter before next week, but only if you show some love! Leave a review and let me know what you think about this chapter, I went a THOUSAND words over what I normally write, so hopefully that satisfies some of you! Oh and somebody reviewed a little while back saying I should get a Beta... Anyone want to be my Beta Reader for this story? (: It would mean a lot to me, seriously. I love improving any way I can, and this would definitely help. Hit me up with a PM or Review if you're interested!**

Last Month's Total Views: 1,161 views

**Song of the Chapter: Outside by Hollywood Undead**


	9. Chapter 8

I peel my eyelids open, resisting the urge to roll over and bury myself under the thin sheets. Lifting the faded Pip-Boy up to my face, I read the time. 4:30 AM. Some habits never go away. Groaning, I stand up. The bed on the opposite wall is empty, to my surprise. Where did he go? I wonder silently. At the foot of the bed rests his faded dusty backpack, full to the cover. He didn't leave for good.

Stepping over the sleeping puppy, I head to my pack and pull on my leather boots. After I finish dressing, I enter the small bathroom. After washing my face and hands, I step outside, breathing the fresh (if it can even be called that) air in. I walk down the sidewalk a little ways before entering a destroyed skeleton that was once a two-story building. Climbing to the upper level, I sun-bathe for a few minutes before pulling out my journal. Writing everything down that's happened since I came to Goodsprings, I lose track of time. Boots thump against the old stairs and I twist around, pistol aimed at the stairs.

Sean appears in the doorway, and when he sees me, he mumbles a quick, "sorry, didn't think anyone would be up here."

My gun drops to my side. "It's fine, I was actually just leaving."

"Leaving?" He asks quickly, startled.

I nod slowly. "Yeah . . . I've been up here for an hour." He relaxes. "Can we head out soon?" I ask after a moment of silence. He nods and gestures for me to head downstairs. I do without another word and we silently walk back to the Outpost. It's almost 6:50 now, I'm surprised that I spent that long on the roof.

Johnson sees us and smiles warmly. "Heading out already?" He asks. Sean nods.

"Gotta get to New Vegas as soon as possible," Sean explains. He stops to talk with the man so I decide to go get our things. Demon jumps on me as soon as he sees me. I rub his head gently before picking up my pack. I bend down to grab Sean's when a piece of paper slips out.

Snatching it, I try to read the scribbled writing. Boots on the stairs send me into a rush, and I stuff the paper into my pack before turning to an energetic Sean, a desperado hat covering his mop of shaggy black hair. I toss him his pack, pulling on my own. Sliding past him, I walk down the creaking stairs. I follow my new companion outside, Demon at my heels. We head across the road to the casino.

"You're hungry, right?" Sean asks, holding the door open for me. I dip my head, slipping inside.

"A little," I admit.

If one wants to survive in the wasteland, the first thing they have to accept is the fact that half the time they'll be hungry and thirsty. Food is everywhere, if one knows how to hunt and live off the land. Water, however, it a different story. Not much of it is pure, meaning it has radiation in it. Drink too much dirty water, and you'll end up dead. My body has grown so used to the sharp pangs of hunger, I barely notice it anymore. Another key to survival: If there's a safe place with food, eat. Don't think, eat. Even if you're not hungry at the moment, eat anyways. You never know when your next meal will be.

Sean leads me and my energetic puppy to a bar in the back of the casino that I hadn't noticed before. He opens a rusty fridge, taking out a cold beer and Nuka-Cola. He slides the soft drink to me with a nod. I thank him, watching as he proceeds to dig around underneath the counter. Picking up Demon, I set him on the counter. It seems like he's getting bigger every day.

"A-ha! Here," Sean says triumphantly, tossing a box of Sugar Bombs to me. I catch them, thank him again, and open the Pre-War box. Dropping a few onto the counter, I let Demon eat his breakfast. Not exactly the greatest thing for a growing pup, but it would have to do. Dumping a handful into my palm, I eat the stale but tasty treats. The box is emptied quickly, between me and the puppy. Draining the rest of my soda, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

Watching my new traveling companion curiously, I wait for him to finish so we can leave. He's leaning over the counter, staring intently at something on his Pip-Boy. When he looks up, his dark brown eyes immediately meet mine.

"The quickest way to Vegas is through Quarry Junction," he states.

I nod. "But that place is crawling with Deathclaws. Even if we had Stealth Boys, it wouldn't matter. The road to Vegas is narrow up that way, we'd be spotted easily."

He sighs, wiping his forehead. "That's what I was thinking. Looks like we'll need to go south a ways until we get to Nipton. They should be able to tell us how to get to Vegas from there."

"Actually, I already know a route," I interject. He tilts his head curiously. "Here, see?" I lean over, showing him my Pip-Boy map. "We do as you suggested and go through Nipton. From there we go up to Novac, and then go north until we hit Freeside."

Sean nods then stops, sighing. "We'll definitely check out Novac, but I'm not sure if we're gonna go straight to Freeside."

"Why not?"

People start to gather into the casino, playing card games and enjoying breakfast in silence. Sean scoots closer to me; the only thing separating us is an old wooden bar. I shiver slightly. He leans in slightly, eyes darting around. Pushing his hat up, he glances at me.

"I'm looking for someone, as you've probably figured out by now," he says quietly. Why is he being so secretive?

"The man that shot you in the head," I state, already knowing the answer. I rest my arms on Demon, who's decided to lay sprawled out on the countertop.

Sean nods. "He's from Vegas. I'm following his trail. I already know he went back to Vegas, I just need to find any extra information I can."

"So you want to make a few extra stops," I summarize. "No sweat, it'll take a few more days, but that's not a problem."

He straightens, grinning at me. "Awesome. Let's hit the road, shall we?" I nod, standing. Demon trots around my feet as we exit the casino. Sean adjusts his hat before starting down the road I began to travel down the night before. Our footsteps are the only sounds around us, besides Demon's non-stop panting and whining. When the road stops, we travel to the edge of a large area of sand.

"Wait," I say, holding my arm out to stop Sean. He looks at me curiously as I drop down to a crouch. "Raiders," I explain, pointing to two guards with Tire Irons. Sean nods before crouching beside me.

"Course of action?" He inquires.

We hide behind a big boulder, glancing around the side of it. Two raiders stand about 10 feet apart, completely oblivious and looking extremely bored. Just as I go to pull out my pistol, Sean's hand on my arm stops me. He nods in the direction of the building, and I watch as three more raiders exit the building. Their heavy metal armor shines under the rising sun. Casually talking, the raiders stand around carelessly.

"Maybe we should go around?" Sean suggests, gesturing to the big space of sand.

"And face a bunch of ants? I'd rather not," I quietly disagree, pulling out my sniper rifle. Sean huffs but says nothing else as he takes an assault rifle out of his pack. Laying flat on my stomach, I push the curious puppy out of my way before looking down the scope.

"I'll get the guys with melee weapons," my companion calls quietly from the other side of the rock. I say nothing, steadying my breathing. Holding my breath, I count to three before slowly exhaling. The recoil kicks into my shoulder as the bullet travels quickly through the air, hitting its intended target. The raider's skull cracks into smaller pieces with a shower of red mist.

As the body drops, the two other raiders by the door leap into action, reaching for their assault weapons. Sean's gun fires away to my right and the two guards drop quickly. Cocking the gun, I twist the gun, aiming at the raider running directly at Sean. Squeezing the trigger, the bullet lodges itself in his throat, successfully dropping the enemy to the ground. Sean takes out the remaining raider, and we stand. Adrenaline pulses through me as we walk towards the bloody bodies. The rush I get whenever in a gunfight is equivalent to a junkie with jet. Not exactly any more safe than the popular inhalant, but a rush none the less. Sean crouches down beside a headless body, searching the pockets. The bright sun rises in the distance casting shadows across the cracked pavement.

"Let's get moving before something else wanders our way," I call to Sean, who's crouched 15 feet away. He stands, his hands full of little miscellaneous items.

"Stimpaks, ammo, some doses of psycho, and… some other kind of drug. I've never seen anything like it before." He holds it up and I take it, inspecting the chem.

"Slasher," I mumble, stuffing it into the front pocket of my pack.

Sean does the same with the other valuables he found. "What the hell is that?"

"A combination of Med-X and Psycho," I explain as we begin traveling down the deserted road. "It's pretty rare, but fairly easy to make, if you know what you're doing."

"And I assume you do?" Sean inquires smartly. I brush it off.

"Yes, to a certain extent. I can make almost any known drug out there." I pause for a moment. "What's that?"

Sean looks towards what I'm pointing at, squinting. "Oh. That's the Mojave Outpost. It's one of NCR's main bases outside of the Vegas area."

Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I continue walking.

"You don't wanna check it out?" Sean asks, surprised.

I shrug. "It seems as if you've already been there, and since I have no desire to go anywhere near the New California Republic any time soon, I see no reason to waste any more daylight."

My companion stops, mouth open. I roll my eyes and continue walks east, where my map says Nipton is. Sean starts running, catching up to my side. He huffs in annoyance.

"I take it you don't like NCR," he comments dryly.

"What's to like?" I respond.

The tall boy mimics me, earning a glare. He shuts up immediately. We continue walking for about a mile before a feeling settles in my stomach. It's the feeling I get whenever I'm about to go into a dangerous fight. My eyes scan the horizon, coming up empty. Maybe I was wrong. But my instincts have never wronged me before.

"Watch out!" Sean shouts, tackling me to the ground.

"Get the fuck off me," I growl, pushing him off. He lands on his back while scrambling to pull out a weapon. Standing up, I duck behind the nearest building, pulling out my pistol. Peeking around the corner, I swear. A group of heavily armed raiders are coming out of the destroyed building across the street. Sean gets up, and as soon as he's on his feet he's being shot at. He quickly dives behind the cover of the crumbling wall that I'm also hiding behind.

"What should we do?!" He shouts over the gunshots.

"Probably kill them," I shout back. He rolls his eyes and disappears around the other side of the building. When the firing lets up, I crouch and turn the corner, firing my pistol. A raider wearing only shorts and a thin shirt drops instantly when I hit him in the shoulder and neck. Bullets spray all around me, some just barely missing. Aiming carefully, I squeeze the trigger, taking out a crazed junkie with bright green hair.

The raiders advance towards my position and right as I reload my pistol, a muscular junkie with heavy metal armor fires at me. A bullet lands in my shoulder and I let out a gasp. The pain tears through my arm, my vision goes blurry. Fighting the pain, I shove the clip into the pistol before aiming again, only this time with my right hand. The raider that hit me goes down after three shots to the chest.

A raider screams as she jumps on me, tackling me from the side. I gasp as I land on my left shoulder, crying out in pain. My pistol is knocked out of my grip, skittering across the Mojave ground, stopping a few feet away. I hiss in pain as the woman uses her nails to scratch my arms. We roll around in the dirt for a minute before I gain the upper hand. Landing a solid punch on her nose, I hear the cartilage break and the junkie screeches before wildly clawing at me. Her nails scrape along my cheek and I feel wet slippery blood against my face. With a hiss, I kick her off of me, jumping up. She tackles me to the ground again before I can reach my pistol.

In the distance, I hear bullets firing and shouting. _What happened to Sean? I hope he's alright. _The thought that my companion might be wounded and possibly be dying renews my energy. Adrenaline pulses through my body, masking the pain from my shoulder and face. I swing my fist into the girl's jaw, landing a punch. My knuckles hurt, but I push the pain aside. She swings at me, and even though I duck, she hits my eye.

A strong growl sounds somewhere to my right, and a moment later, Demon leaps on the raider, tearing his teeth into her arm. She shouts and screams, falling off of me. As she thrashes around wildly, trying to pry Demon off of her body, I stand shakily. Grabbing my pistol, I aim down the sights, using my left eye. Demon has an iron grip on the woman's arm, and blood drips from his mouth. Pulling the trigger twice, my arm drops to my side.

I don't think I've ever had to use my right arm and aim with my left eye. Guess I can cross that off my bucket list. Demon lets go of the dead raider and trots over to me, muzzle and jaw bloody and wet.

Crouching down, I rub his ears. "Such a good baby! Thank you," I say in the baby voice I use only for dogs. Gunshots tear through the silence and I jump up. Demon looks toward the other building, fur raised. "Sean," I whisper. We take off toward the other building. As I round the corner, I gasp.

Three raiders hear me and quickly turn, firing their assault rifles. Diving behind the wall, I take a shaky breath as bullets spray at where I was moments before. Wherever my companion is, I hope I just bought him some time.

"Get the girl, we'll find the boy," one raider says and the firing stops. Blood pulses in my ears, giving me a headache. I motion for Demon to be quiet, then begin to silently sneak around the other side of the building. I reach for my assault rifle, cursing silently when my hands come up empty. Looking across the street, I see my pack, along with my weapons, lying in the dust. _Too far away_.

Boots crunch in the sand and I freeze. With my back towards the wasteland behind me, I slowly back away from the building. The raider is going to come around that corner, and that's when I'll fire. Taking another step back, fear and panic rises in me when a gloved hand covers my mouth and I am dragged backwards. Demon trots along beside us, and I relax. The hand removes itself and I turn around.

"What the fuck!" I whisper-shout at Sean, who looks half dead. He's dirty and sweaty, and looks like he hasn't slept in weeks, but otherwise looks unharmed. I relax when I come to the conclusion he doesn't have any life-threatening wounds.

"Shh!" He whispers, grabbing my right upper arm. He starts for another destroyed building, but stops when he hears my whimper of pain. "Are you alright?" He asks, concerned.

"Yeah, fine. Let's go."

He shrugs it off, this time not touching me at all. Demon growls, and a moment later a shout breaks the silence, followed by bullets flying at us. Sean wastes no time as he pulls me behind him while shooting the raider in the chest. My vision blurs a little and I stumble. He catches me, slinging my arm over his shoulders as we rush to the next building.

"You were shot!" He exclaims. I can't really tell, but he sounds angry, or maybe he's just annoyed. My ears ring and my head pounds. I shake my head, commanding myself to stay focused. "Where's the bullet?" Sean asks, slightly calmer. I point to my shoulder, breathing heavily. He steps closer, only a few inches between us. My breathing is unsteady, and I hope he thinks it's because of the blood loss and unbearable pain.

"There you are!" A raider shouts suddenly, appearing around the corner. She raises her baseball bat, shrieking loudly. Demon lunges at her, teeth clamping down on the first thing he reaches, which happens to be her thigh. It gives Sean enough time to put a bullet in her skull.

"Listen to me, okay?" He says, holding my face in his hands. My eyelids droop, but I force them open. "Hey! Stay awake!"

The last raider charges around the building, cleaver raised. He knocks Sean to the ground, and without the support, I tumble to the dusty earth as well. The two roll around, landing punches and shouting. Looking around quickly, I see my gold pistol in the dirt a few feet away. Sean shouts as the blade slices his forearm. His pain pushes me through mine and I stretch to get the gun. My fingers come a few inches short. Demon nudges the gun with his nose, pushing it the few inches towards me. Giving the pup a grin, my fingers lock around the familiar metal. Sitting against the wall, I raise the pistol with both shaking hands. My vision goes blurry before returning to normal. Exhaling, I squeeze the trigger, pushing through the pain.

_Click._

Sean lets out another shout of pain as the knife hits. Dread fills my twisting stomach as I realize my pistol is empty. Looking at Demon helplessly, my eye catches another glint of metal. Sean's gun. Crawling toward it, I fight the pain that shoots up and down my arm with every movement. My fingers lock around the gun and I sigh in relief. The raider and Sean are now 10 feet away, standing up, facing each other. Sean is unarmed, and the junkie has a cleaver. They circle around each other, swinging and missing. Waiting for a moment, I aim down the sights. Sean knocks the cleaver out of the raider's hand, and they begin throwing punches.

"Sean, move," I whisper, but he doesn't hear me. His body is successfully blocking all of the raiders. _Should I really do this? _I wonder to myself. It's the only way. Steadying my breathing, I pull the trigger before closing my eyes quickly. The gun falls out of my hands and I hold my breath. Darkness consumes me before I can try to fight it, and I pass out.

* * *

**Author's Note: Guess who's back, back, back, back again, again, again, Mia's back, back, back, tell a friend, friend, friend! (Eminem song, cookie to anyone who recognizes it xD)**

**I'm back, people! How has everybody been these past few months? Good? Bad? Well either way, I hope this chapter brightened your day(: I could write an entire book of excuses for why it took me like five months to update, but you guys don't care. So to sum it up: My suicidal friend became un-suicidal, he asked me out, we dated for 3 months, I broke up with him, had to study a lot for exams, and now I'm here. I babysit pretty much every day during the week, so I don't have much time to write. This summer is going to be insane for me, since I have a huge list of plans with my friends, including going to Warped Tour and going out for tennis. Also, I have summer school :/ SO, I won't update as much as I want, but don't worry, there WILL be updates!**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Reviews are appreciated, and tahnks abunch to everyone who stuck with me!**

**Song of the Chapter: 1. In The End by Black Veil Brides (Honestly, I listen to this song all day, every day. Go check out the music video, it's definitely worth it! Andy and Jinxx are so sexyyy [insert fangirl squeal here]) 2. King for a Day by Pierce the Veil featuring Kellin Quinn [insert fangirl squeal here too]**


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